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I speak indeed of what I was just now saying: that which has the great power to gain an advantage. Therefore, consider this. For if you wish to judge how much more it profits a man individually to be unjust than to be just, you will learn it most easily if you turn to the most perfect injustice, which makes the one who commits it most happy, and those who suffer it, and are unwilling to commit it, most wretched. This is tyranny, which does not take away the property of others bit by bit, secretly and by force—such as sacred and holy things, or private and public—but all at once. For when someone, having committed injustice, does not remain hidden in any one of these parts, he is punished and bears the greatest reproaches. For temple-robbers, kidnappers, burglars, defrauders, and thieves are called by the names of these crimes when they commit injustice in parts. But when someone, in addition to the money of the citizens, has also kidnapped the citizens themselves and enslaved them, instead of these shameful names, they are called happy and blessed, not only by the citizens, but also by all others who hear that he has committed injustice in its entirety. For those who reproach injustice do so not because they fear the doing of unjust acts, but because they fear the suffering of them. Thus, Socrates, injustice is stronger, freer, and more lordly than justice, when it occurs in sufficient measure; and, as I said from the beginning, justice happens to be the advantage of the stronger, while injustice is profitable and advantageous to oneself.
Having said this, Thrasymachus intended to leave, just like a bath-attendant who had poured a great and voluminous discourse over our ears. The others present, however, did not allow him, but forced him to remain and provide an account of what had been said. And I myself also begged him and said: “My dear Thrasymachus, having thrown such a discourse at us, how can you think of leaving before you have sufficiently taught us, or learned, whether it is so or otherwise? Or do you think it is a small matter you are attempting to settle, and not a way of life, by which each of us would live the most profitable life?”
“Do I suppose,” said Thrasymachus, “that this is otherwise?”
“By Zeus, you seem to,” I said, “either to care nothing for us, or to be indifferent whether we live worse or better, being ignorant of what you claim to know. But, my good man, be eager to demonstrate it to us as well. It will not be ill for you, whatever benefit you provide to so many of us. For I tell you my own view: that I am not persuaded, nor do I believe that injustice is more profitable than justice, not even if one allows it and does not hinder it from doing what it wishes. But, my good man, let a man be unjust and let him have the power to commit injustice, either by escaping notice or by fighting it through; nevertheless, he does not persuade me that it is more profitable than justice. Perhaps some other one of us feels this way, not just I alone. Therefore, my blessed friend, persuade us sufficiently that we are not deliberating correctly in holding justice in higher regard than injustice.”
“And how,” he said, “shall I persuade you? For if you are not persuaded by what I was just now saying, what more shall I do for you? Or shall I carry the argument into your very soul and place it there?”
“By Zeus, no, not me!” I said. “But first of all, stand by what you say, or if you shift your position, shift it openly and do not deceive us. But now, do you see, Thrasymachus? For let us examine the earlier points: that when defining the true physician at first, you did not think it necessary to keep to the definition of the true shepherd later; rather, you think he tends the sheep only insofar as he is a shepherd, not looking to the best interest of the sheep, but like a guest who is about to feast, looking toward the banquet, or again, toward the sale of them, like a moneymaker, but not a shepherd. Yet, the craft of shepherding surely cares for nothing else than how it might provide the best for that over which it is appointed; since, regarding its own state, so as to be at its best, it has surely been sufficiently provided for, so long as there is no lack of its being the craft of shepherding. Thus, I thought just now that it was necessary for us to agree that every authority, insofar as it is an authority, considers the best interest of nothing else but that which is ruled and cared for, whether in public or private authority. But do you think that the rulers in the cities—the true rulers—rule willingly?”
“By Zeus, no,” he said, “but I know well [they do not].”
“What then?” I said. “By Zeus, Thrasymachus, do you not understand that no one is willing to rule voluntarily in the other types of authority? But they demand a wage...”